It’s a bright lovely Monday morning in Chelsea. Schoolchildren board and alight their school buses cheerfully. Adults go to their offices, shops and workplaces with a permanent grin on their faces. They have every reason to be in a happy mood. The weather was lovely, traffic in the cosmopolitan city was meticulous, the tranquillity that hovered can almost be touched, even the junkies and alcoholics that sneak in once in a while from other remote parts of London seems to have disappeared overnight, most importantly their beloved club had a terrific outing the previous day.
Chelsea FC had trashed Aston-villa FC four goals to nothing in a mind-blowing match that saw Steve Jones earn the fifth hat trick of his glittering career.
Steve himself was in third heavens perambulating in his posh flat clad in a Nike boxer shot, a bathing robe and flip-flop. It’s not everyday that an attacker gets to score four goals in a premiere league match. Not just any premiere league match, but a premier league match being watched by the most beautiful female lawn tennis star in the country who happens to love him. Having Cheryl in the spectators stand had definitely brought out the best in him, as all he was doing was try to impress the hell out of her.
On Friday, she had made his day by coming to Cobham with him and making a few heads turn at the training ground thereby helping him earn some due respect from his fellow team mates. Not that he needed his team mates to respect him, but at least the few ones who had the guts to question his romantic credibility with his sweetheart would have a story to tell when they get home to their WAGS, even though their WAGS must have seen it on newspapers and magazines since Cheryl’s pictures with him at the Cobham training ground in Surrey and the ones where she was watching the match against Aston-villa FC were all over the tabloids.
Still perambulating in his posh flat, he went to the entrance door to check if the Royal mail’s men have paid him a routine morning visit.
They have.
He picked all the letters and proceeds to tear it one after the other. There were credit card bills, two letters from Chelsea FC, bank statements, utility bills, a letter from ITV’s All star Mr and Mrs, then lastly a letter from BBC.
BBC?
Is Kate Silverton finally looking his way?
He is an addict of BBC morning news for all the wrong reasons. He has a huge crush on the beautiful newscaster/TV presenter. Every morning he wakes up early to watch BBC news. At first, he thought that he loves listening and watching BBC news, be it on radio or TV, but later he realized that he only prefers watching it on telly rather than listen to it on the radio. He also realized that whenever Kate Silverton wasn’t there on the telly he always found himself turning off the television.
Then one faithful day, shortly after joining Chelsea FC’s main team, he had been invited over to BBC to join Gary Linekar and co for the ‘Match of the day’ programme. Kate Silverton was one of the numerous staffs that came to welcome him. The men had shook hands with him while the ladies opted for hugs. It was Kate’s turn to hug him. Unfortunately for him, as she did, his legs wobbled, he almost had a heart attack. He excused himself to use the toilet. At the toilet, he was relieved when he found out that there was no evidence of come all over him. He thought he had reached climax the moment the gorgeous BBC’s beauty hugged him.
‘That was close’ he thought appreciating his luck. When he returned to join the rest of the entire star struck BBC crew who were still stunned seeing the Chelsea FC whiz kid, he was disappointed that Kate did not mention anything about his strange behaviour, which if she had, he would have taken it as an invitation to talk to her (green light so to speak) but she didn’t. She probably did not notice him. He had gone home praying things were different.
With the letter still in his hand, he contemplated the chances that she will be the writer.
The ratio was 0:0.
Reason?
It has been a long time since the incident. She’s definitely not the one. He hoped she was.
She wasn’t.
The letter was an invitation from Jonathan Ross. He has been invited by the funny man as a guest on the upcoming popular BBC’s weekly programme ‘Friday night with Jonathan Ross’
‘Four days notice?’ he thought as he read the contents of the letter ’you’ve got to be kidding me’
He was looking forward to having Cheryl to himself all weekend plus Friday is the last training day before a carling cup quarterfinals home match against Manchester city FC on Sunday. He was still yammering away thinking of a better lie that will excuse him from the pending Friday BBC programme when his landline rang provoking him and limiting the time frame he had to construe a convincing white lie that will dissuade Jonathan Ross to drop the invitation.
He picked up the receiver.
His mum was on the line.
She was calling to congratulate him on his hat trick against Aston-villa FC and to inquire when he’s planning to bring Cheryl over to come and see her.
He was grateful for the nice things she said about his goals, as for bringing Cheryl to come to her house, he has to speak to her first. Mother and son chatted over the phone for sometime. His mother Lucy (a phone chatterbox) refused to get off the phone denying him the chance to think things over. The beeping sound coming from his mobile phone saved him.
“Mum I’ll call you back, there’s someone on the other line now, ok!” that was it, and he terminated the connection with Lucy. On the mobile, Jonathan Ross himself was calling to make sure he got the invitation letter his PA sent out three or four days earlier. He wanted to lie about it, give excuses and pray he understands, but hey, this is Jonathan Ross, JONATHAN ROSS! Common, how many people in England have the courage to say no to one of the funniest man the country has produced in years. No way! Not even Steve Jones who knew quite well that playing smart with Jonathan Ross would not work, after all diamond cuts diamond.